


i want that red velvet

by quiddative



Series: Sugar 'verse [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Auror Partners, Biting, Crossdressing, Established Relationship, M/M, Marking, Oral Sex, Panties, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2015-04-25
Packaged: 2018-03-25 17:55:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3819595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiddative/pseuds/quiddative
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was ridiculous--it should have been ridiculous, except Draco couldn’t quite get past the fact that the dress did an excellent job of showing off Harry’s tanned legs. And Harry had lean but powerful legs that Draco loved when they were draped over his shoulders or wrapped tightly around his waist. A fleeting image of those legs wrapped around him with the dress’s soft material whispering over his skin as it bunched up around Harry’s thighs passed through his mind and Draco nearly let out a moan. His trousers suddenly tightened around his crotch.</p><p>(or: the one where Harry's Polyjuice runs out before he could take off his dress during a mission and Draco discovers a new kink)</p>
            </blockquote>





	i want that red velvet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thethaumas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thethaumas/gifts).



> For [thethaumas](http://archiveofourown.org/users/thethaumas/pseuds/thethaumas), who gave me the idea in the first place and has been waiting patiently for me to finish this. <3
> 
> This is technically set in the same 'verse as [need a little sweetness](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3795646) but knowledge of the other fic is completely unnecessary.

Shortly after Draco and Harry began what normal people would call a relationship and what Harry affectionately termed as “the inevitable conclusion to six years of boarding school sexual tension,” Robards called them both into his office for a ‘chat.’

The older man narrowed his eyes at them as they took their seats. “Is this,” he said after a moment, gesturing to the space between them with his index finger, “ _thing_ between you two going to be a problem?”

Before Draco could haughtily ask him what he meant by that, Harry replied, “Not at all, sir. Auror Malfoy and I are fully capable of keeping our professional and personal lives separate.” He blinked innocently at their boss for added effect.

And in the end, there was nothing Robards could really do since the DMLE didn’t actually have any anti-fraternization policies. The British wizarding population was small enough that prohibiting Ministry workers, which comprised a good chunk of the community, from fraternizing would essentially ground the growth of the population to a halt. Obviously the Ministry hadn’t considered excluding same-sex couples, but even if they had, it would be laughable of them to object to the great Bisexual Who Lived’s choice of partners. The war was still a fresh wound and, as much as it irritated him, Harry’s fame came in useful at times.

Perhaps the most surprising part about their _thing_ , as Robards so eloquently put it, wasn’t that they managed to last so long despite everyone’s predictions to the contrary (six months and counting, thank you very much), but how much their work improved since it started. Their solve rate was the highest in the DMLE, so if Robards--or anyone else for that matter--was looking for a reason to break them up, he wasn’t going to find it there.

What’s more, their relationship remained virtually the same since they became tentative friends at the end of their Auror training. Only now, in addition to going to the pub after work and bickering just as much now as they used to back in their Hogwarts days, they had amazing sex on a regular basis. As much as Draco already enjoyed teasing and bantering with Harry, he liked it a lot more when their fights ended with both of them lying naked on a horizontal surface. Sometimes they forewent the horizontal part completely if they were feeling particularly impatient.

Anyway, the point was that he and Harry worked just as well together as Auror partners as they did as, well, partners. And part of the reason for that was they were already intimately acquainted with each other’s worst faults. There was simply nothing about Harry that could surprise Draco anymore and vice versa (with the exception of Draco discovering the full extent of Harry’s flexibility during their first time together--but that was more of a pleasant discovery rather than a negative surprise).

Their relationship never got in the way of their jobs. Not when Draco had to infiltrate a group of Neo-Death Eaters and relived some of his worst nightmares during the month-long operation, waking Harry up every night with his screams. Nor the time when Harry had to pretend he was dating Ginny Weasley again in order to expose a gambling ring within the Quidditch League while Rita Skeeter shamelessly produced increasingly outlandish and scathing theories about all the ways Draco could’ve possibly fucked up their relationship every day for a week. Not even seeing Harry Polyjuiced as a blonde Muggle woman and dancing closely with their suspect on their latest mission could faze Draco at this point.

Except for when the Polyjuice ran out before Harry could take his dress off after arresting the aforementioned suspect.

“For fuck’s sake--I thought I had another hour!”

A snicker and an indignant squawk followed, drawing Draco’s attention away from the forms he was filling out and to--

_Oh._

Draco’s brain sputtered for a few seconds before dying a fiery death. The breath in his lungs became cement as he tried to process the sight in front of him: Harry-- _his_ Harry, no longer Polyjuiced and just barely fitting in the [black strapless high-low dress](https://viccil.files.wordpress.com/2012/01/9a5869c9ef5bd3707add3a7eb991d13b.jpg) that hung over his Polyjuiced body like a dream less than a minute ago.

It was ridiculous–-it should have been ridiculous, except Draco couldn’t quite get past the fact that the dress did an excellent job of showing off Harry’s tanned legs. And Harry had lean but powerful legs that Draco loved when they were draped over his shoulders or wrapped tightly around his waist. A fleeting image of those legs wrapped around him with the dress’s soft material whispering over his skin as it bunched up around Harry’s thighs passed through his mind and Draco nearly let out a moan. His trousers suddenly tightened around his crotch.

“I did ask if you wanted to take an antidote and change earlier,” Weasley grinned.

The apprehended wizard gaped at Harry like he was Voldemort himself. “I–I danced with Harry Potter,” he murmured, sounding torn between being horrified at dancing with Harry Potter and dancing with Harry Potter while he was Polyjuiced as a woman.

Harry growled and crossed his arms, hiding his now exposed pectorals from view. “Let’s just get this over with.” He glared at the wizard, who shrank into his chair. “The sooner you finish writing your signed confession, the sooner I can go home after throwing your arse into a nice cozy cell.”

The Muggle woman he’d Polyjuiced looked like someone who went to the gym regularly; she was roughly the same height as him and her shoulders were almost as broad as his. But where she had a curvy waist that was beautifully accentuated by the bodice, Harry had a broad chest that was practically bursting out of the thin material that held it.

A strangled whimper escaped from Draco’s mouth.

Harry swung his head towards him and narrowed his brilliant green eyes. “Don’t you fucking dare,” he warned.

Draco tried to tell Harry that wasn’t a very ladylike thing to say but a burning lump suddenly lodged itself in his throat as he was pinned by the full force of the other man’s gaze. He forgot that Harry was wearing _makeup_. It wasn’t much--just some eyeliner, mascara, and a bit of cherry red lipstick--but it framed his face like a portrait by one of the Old Masters.

Harry wasn’t someone Draco would call beautiful (well, not out loud, at least). He was the kind of man for whom the word ‘handsome’ was made. But in this instance, Harry was fucking gorgeous.

“I wasn’t going to,” said Draco weakly. With some effort, he pulled himself back into filling out the rest of the forms while his heart continued to pound furiously against his rib cage.

The next few minutes were pure torture. Draco glanced up occasionally to drink in the sight of his partner, his breath shaking each time he did so. Harry was always the stronger one between the two of them and if someone had told Draco that he apparently had a repressed kink for seeing his very masculine partner in a dress before tonight, he probably would’ve suffered a stroke from laughing so hard at the idea. Harry was not the type of person Draco would associate with feminine things. If anything, based on the ribbing they endured from their friends in their first few weeks together, Draco was more likely to be the one in the dress.

But there was something about seeing strong, immovable Harry contrasted with the soft, ephemeral piece of clothing that made Draco weak at the knees. The delicate dress somehow looked right on Harry.

Draco’s hands shook as he imagined what the fabric would feel like beneath his fingers. Or how warm Harry’s skin would be underneath the soft material. As he finished filling out the last of the forms and filing them away, he wanted nothing more than to grab Harry and Apparate them back to their flat so he could fuck him into the mattress until the only word left in his vocabulary was Draco’s name.

“You go on ahead,” said Weasley. He stood up and roughly hauled the suspect up by his arm. “I can take it from here. I’d say you have other things to worry about.”

Harry playfully shoved his shoulder. “Shut it, you.” He turned to Draco with a warm smile and Draco’s mouth watered. “You just about done here?”

Draco could only nod shakily in reply because he didn’t trust himself to be able to open his mouth and not drool like a Crup. Weasley gave him a suspicious look and Draco immediately strengthened his Occlumency shields. Although Weasley wasn’t a great Legilimens, Draco would rather not risk accidentally advertising his perverted fantasies about his partner to the aforementioned partner’s _best friend_.

He was terribly, desperately aware of the warmth radiating from Harry’s body as they made their way towards the thankfully deserted Atrium with the heels of Harry’s black pumps clicking loudly against the marble floor. Draco ached to reach over and wrap his arms around Harry--even the thought of just brushing against his skin was enough to make his heart palpitate.

The journey to the Atrium and from the Floo to their flat took entirely too long, in his opinion. But once they stumbled out of their living room he wasted no time in unbuttoning his coat and flinging it in the direction of the sofa.

Harry was still brushing soot off his bare shoulders. “Right, mind telling me what’s going on through your head--”

He didn’t get the chance to finish his question when Draco slammed their mouths together and pushed him up against the wall. It was a testament to how often they did this that Harry instantly relaxed beneath him and wrapped his arms around Draco’s waist, pulling him closer in the space between his legs like he was the final puzzle piece.

Draco coaxed Harry’s mouth open with gentle bites on his bottom lip and eagerly devoured his delicious moans. Harry parted his lips even more and Draco happily took the invitation to plunge his tongue in, exploring the warm, familiar shape of Harry’s mouth and the way the other man’s tongue felt against his. His hands travelled lower down Harry’s body, caressing his skin through the soft material of the dress. Harry shuddered at his touch and his grip on Draco tightened.

When Draco got to the hem of the front part of the dress, his hands reached around Harry’s thighs to cup his arse and–-

His eyes flew open and he drew back, eliciting a whine from Harry. “Harry, are you…?”

Harry blushed and nodded, letting go of Draco to lift the front part of his dress up and reveal his erection straining against a pair of _black lace panties_. Even if it weren’t for the panties, Draco could’ve come right then and there at the incredibly heartstopping, just plain  _lewd_ sight of Harry lifting his skirt up. _For him._

“You’re wearing panties,” he choked out.

Harry grinned and leaned back against the wall looking like an extremely satisfied Kneazle that ate the Snidget. “I figured it would help me get into character,” he explained. “And, well,” his cheeks reddened, “they feel kind of nice.”

“Only ‘kind of?’” Draco teased. He squeezed Harry’s arse and smirked when he let out a weak gasp. He bent his head forward and nipped Harry’s ear, earning another shudder from the shorter man. “I bet I can make you feel even better,” he whispered.

He gracefully dropped to his knees and, keeping his hands on Harry’s arse, leaned forward to mouth Harry’s leaking erection through the panties.

He heard Harry gasp above him and a soft thud that told him Harry had thrown his head back against the wall. He felt one of Harry’s hands fist his hair and pull him forward. Draco happily obeyed, lapping hungrily at the head of his cock and tasting some precome through the panties.

“ _Fuck_ , Draco!” Harry moaned, hiking his skirt up even more to give Draco more access.

Draco pulled back briefly to tug Harry’s panties down. Harry quickly complied and raised one of his legs to pull the now soaked panties off, kicking his pumps off in the process. Draco grabbed his leg and lifted it so it could rest on his shoulder.

“What’s this?” Harry asked breathlessly as Draco left a trail of bites along the inside of his thigh, following the stretch marks on his skin. These were the parts of Harry that only he got to saw and he always made sure to treasure moments like this.

“Just--let me,” Draco said, gazing up at him with pleading eyes.

Harry let out a dark chuckle but Draco was pleased to hear his voice tremble a little. “If I knew that women’s lingerie would turn you on this much, I’d have started wearing them sooner.”

Draco blushed and mumbled, “It’s not just that.”

“What?”

Draco exhaled deeply before replying, “It’s--you have no idea how much this goddamn dress has been driving me crazy since your Polyjuice wore off.”

Harry was silent for a minute and Draco bit his bottom lip, wondering if he’d just crossed a line that Harry himself wasn’t willing to cross. But after a few seconds, one of Harry’s hands let go of his hair to gently stroke his cheek. “I think you should show me just how much,” he said.

Draco gave him a wicked grin. “It’ll be my pleasure.”

He hollowed his cheeks and took in all of Harry’s cock, suppressing his gag reflex as it hit the back of his throat. Harry let out a strangled moan and tightened his grip on Draco’s hair. Draco didn’t mind even as his eyes watered at the pressure. Harry was always hesitant about voicing his desires, but, as the saying went, actions spoke louder than words. Draco loved making him lose control, even through something as seemingly insignificant as a little hair pulling.

He hummed around Harry’s cock as he licked and sucked, savouring the bitter taste and memorizing the sound of every pant that escaped from Harry’s mouth. This--the way Harry was crumbling like an old house-- _was all for Draco_ , and that knowledge burned hot beneath his skin.

Harry’s heel dug into his back and Draco responded by dragging his nails down Harry’s arse, just hard enough to leave marks without breaking the skin. “Oh!” Harry moaned. “I-I’m close--Draco, please!”

Keeping one hand on Harry’s arse, Draco’s other hand went up to fondle his balls, earning a deep, guttural moan. He pressed one of his fingers against Harry’s opening and circled it.

Harry cried out and came down Draco’s throat--hard. Draco swallowed it all and didn’t stop until Harry whimpered and tugged at his hair.

He leaned back on his heels and lowered Harry’s leg back down on the floor with care. Harry sank into his waiting arms with a blissful expression on his face, tangling the dress between their bodies. Draco’s long ignored erection somehow hardened even more as he noticed Harry’s ruined makeup for the first time. Sweat had smudged his eyeliner and mascara, and his lipstick was smeared across one cheek like a splash of watercolour. His pupils were so dilated that Draco could barely make out the green of his eyes. He was sweaty and debauched but he was Draco’s so that made him gorgeous in Draco’s eyes.

Without even thinking about it, he brushed his thumb over Harry’s swollen lips. His breath hitched when Harry automatically parted his lips and lightly sucked the tip of his thumb. There was a spark of lust and mischief in his green eyes. “Merlin, you’re going to be the death of me,” Draco breathed.

Harry chuckled. “No, my name’s Harry,” he replied.

“Cheeky,” said Draco, grinning fondly down at him.

Harry leaned back while keeping his arms around Draco’s shoulders. “Do you want to do something about this, maybe?” he asked, gesturing to the tent in Draco’s trousers. “Unless you’d like me to.” He freed Draco’s erection and began to stroke it slowly.

Draco moaned and tightened his grip on Harry’s waist. “T-This is fine,” he gasped. He pulled Harry’s body flush against his and gave him a bruising kiss, which Harry enthusiastically returned.

Draco ran his hands up and down the sides of Harry’s body, memorizing the sensation of the soft fabric against Harry’s hard muscles and the scorching heat from his skin. It was nothing like he’d imagined--it was better.

He shifted to a more comfortable sitting position and Harry spread his legs wider to accommodate him. Draco’s hands reached under the back of Harry’s dress to cup his arse, squeezing hard. He inhaled the soft gasp Harry choked out like it was a gift and dug his nails down along the marks he left earlier.

Harry often complained, fondly, that Draco was like a wolf--a possessive bastard who had a compulsion for marking his territory. Draco never denied it; he loved knowing that, underneath the layers and layers that made up his Auror uniform, Harry carried his mark and _only_ his.

But Harry had his own way of marking his territory, too. He pumped Draco’s cock and squeezed it just enough to make Draco see stars, vividly reminding him that, just as Harry belonged to him, Draco was Harry’s. “Fuck! Harry--wait!” Draco cried out, breaking their kiss.

He reluctantly pushed Harry away but kept his hands firmly on his waist. “I’m going to come if you keep that up,” he groaned.

Harry smirked and swivelled his hips so his hardening cock was pressed against Draco’s, drawing a deep groan from Draco. “I thought that was the point,” he said innocently.

Draco dropped his forehead on Harry’s shoulder. “I want to come _inside you_.”

Harry’s breath trembled. “With the dress on?”

Draco’s response was to bite down on the spot where his neck met his shoulder-- _hard_. “Yes,” he hissed. He lifted his head and gently cupped Harry’s cheek with one hand. “Are you--Are you alright with that?”

The next thing Draco knew, he was lying flat on his back with Harry above him on his hands and knees. Draco could only watch, transfixed, as he summoned a bottle of lube, quickly slicked his fingers, and reached behind himself. He instantly knew when Harry had breached himself from the way his breath hitched and his mouth fluttered in a delicate ‘o.’

Draco braced his hands on Harry’s thighs, squeezing tightly enough that he knew there would be bruises there the next day. “Fuck--Harry, look at you,” he breathed, staring helplessly as Harry rocked himself back on his fingers, causing the dress to brush against the skin of Draco’s exposed arms. “You’re perfect,” he continued, “you’re so perfect like this.”

“Is this your way of telling me to--to start wearing dresses more often?” Harry panted.

“You can wear whatever you like,” said Draco truthfully, “as long as I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.”

Harry’s laugh rang through the room like bells. “Deal.” He ease his fingers out and poured some more lube in his hand, quickly slicking Draco’s cock with it before firmly grasping it with his other hand. “I’m ready,” he said.

Draco moved his hands further up Harry’s body and guided him down his cock. His body thrummed with tension as Harry sank down his cock, inch by inch, and it took every last bit of willpower he possessed to resist thrusting into Harry’s warmth before Harry was ready.

They both gasped once Harry was fully seated. Draco could barely breathe--he knew that, no matter how many more years he and Harry had together (and he hoped it would be many, _many_ more), he would never grow tired of the wonderful sensation of just being inside Harry, surrounded by him, drowning in him.

“Alright?” asked Draco, his voice barely above a whisper.

Harry’s hands were now clenched tightly around Draco’s arms and his entire body was shaking. But his normally bright green eyes were clouded with lust. “I’ll be even better,” he said hoarsely, “once you start fucking me like you mean it.”

Draco knew, without a doubt, that Harry would be finding dark blue finger-shaped bruises on his waist tomorrow morning in the mirror. “Oh, I don’t think you have to worry about that.”

With that, he snapped his hips up sharply. Harry’s eyes fluttered close and his beautiful, beautiful mouth fell open in a loud, broken moan. Draco continued thrusting in a steady, relentless pace with his eyes locked on Harry the whole time.

Harry was falling apart like he was trapped in a storm. His whole body was covered in sweat, his cheeks flushed a delicious shade of pink, and the dress--that fucking dress made Harry look like royalty and Draco simply happened to be the incredibly fortunate individual who had the privilege of destroying him in the best way.

Draco knew he hit Harry’s prostate when Harry gasped and his grip on Draco’s arms tightened even more. “Draco--oh! There, right there! Fuck me, _please!_ ”

Draco increased the pace of his thrusts, fucking deeper into Harry’s warmth as if he could engrave himself beneath Harry’s skin. Being inside and all around Harry--this was home to him. His climax built up within him like a tidal wave but he gritted his teeth and forced himself to not come, not yet. Not until he could see Harry fall to pieces right in front of his eyes. Then, he’d pick up the pieces and help put Harry back together, leaving a bit of himself behind before doing it all over again in the future.

Harry was sobbing now and his body shook like an earthquake. “Draco, I can’t--oh!”

Draco sat up and rolled them over, lifting Harry’s legs over his shoulders and nearly bending Harry in half as he continued fucking him. “Let go, Harry,” he panted. “I want to see--I want to see you come for me. Just for _me_.”

Harry screamed as his release enveloped his whole body and all Draco could do was hang on. He only let himself come once Harry had finished, moaning as he spilled his release into Harry.

Spent, he gingerly pulled out of Harry’s body and echoed the other man's gasp once he was all the way out. He took a moment to sit back on his heels and simply stare.

If he thought there would be any chance of saving the dress before, it was impossible to do so now. Thick white ropes of come covered the dress like stray gobs of paint on a canvas. Harry, in Draco’s sincere opinion, made a gorgeous painting.

His eyes were half closed as he stared up at the ceiling and soft pants fell in a steady rhythm from his swollen lips.

A dark, primal part of Draco rumbled proudly at the knowledge that _he_ did this.

“Hey,” said Draco, nudging him gently. “Let’s get you to bed.”

He carefully manoeuvered Harry into a standing position and led him to their bedroom. Once he closed the door behind him, he helped Harry strip out of the dress and they both climbed into bed, exhausted but sated.

Harry instantly curled around Draco like a cat and Draco instinctively wrapped his arm around him. “Hmm, so you really liked the dress, huh?” said Harry.

It wasn’t a question.

Draco cleared his throat and looked everywhere but at his partner. “I might, yeah.”

Harry chuckled and kissed his cheek. “Let’s go shopping this weekend. I’ll let you pick the next one.”

Draco’s heart jumped to his throat. He suddenly couldn’t wait for the weekend.

 


End file.
